


Baby, Won’t You Tell Me...

by AnotherWorld3111



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Love Confessions, M/M, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: Alternate ending to the trap, giving us what we all REALLY wanted. The amount of queer baiting in that episode really got to me, I had to make my own ficRead the tags y’all that’s basically what it is
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 158





	Baby, Won’t You Tell Me...

**Author's Note:**

> Also, y’all weren’t posting enough!!!! Why y’all gotta disappear?! Sure the show is ending but let’s go out with a bang! Beat some records! Not slowly fade away! Hell, if the merthur fandom can and is still going strong 8 years later, we, the Supernatural fandom, can do better!!!  
> (And this is a week late cuz it took me until today to sit my ass down and start writing, homework be damned)
> 
> Oh, also, title taken from a Telugu film’s song: Baby Won’t You Tell Me from the movie Saaho

“Cas, I need to say something.” ‘ _ I love you. I’m sorry. You deserve better. Please don’t ever leave me again.’ _

“You don’t have to say it.” Cas looked happy, a little relieved. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if it was just his imagination that Cas still looked guarded, however. “I heard your prayer.”

oOo

Hours later, after one failed attempt to trap Chuck and one brother retrieved whole (minus for hope), Dean remained seated at the bunker’s kitchen table. Sam had long since retired to bed, but for some reason, Cas had still stuck around, nursing the glass of whiskey Dean had given him, if at least to give his hands something to do if not drink it.

Any other day and Dean would’ve grabbed the glass and downed it, not willing to let somemperfevtly good alcohol go to waste. Now, he was just sitting there, staring at Cas’ hands, at those long fingers delicately cradling the glass, all the whole trying to get his throat to work. 

_ ‘C’mon, Dean.’  _ He inhaled deeply, subconsciously pushing his shoulders back and straightening in his seat. All he had to do was open his mouth…

“You should go to bed.” For a second, Dean blinked dumbly, because he certainly hadn’t opened his mouth yet. Another second passed for Dean to wonder why those would be the words he uttered until, finally, three whole seconds later, Cas’ voice — and tone — registered in his head.

Dammit. Cas looked like he was gearing up to stand and leave. The kitchen, the bunker, the state — Dean didn’t know, and he wasn’t ready to find out.

_ ‘Now or never, Winchester!’  _

“Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat, glancing at Cas. When he was met only with a patient and inquisitive stare in return, he went back to staring down at his whiskey, before forcing himself to meet Cas’ eyes. “Look, Cas… I need to tell you something.” A quick upward flicker of his eyes showed Cas beginning to frown in confusion. 

“Is this about—”

“Yes. Well. No. Not-not exactly. Look — just, give me a second here?”

The frown didn’t ease, but as Cas slowly settled, not looking like he was just gonna up and leave anymore, Dean allowed a small part of himself to untense. “Of course, Dean.” Steady, reassuring, grounding. His mere presence, the representation and proof of the stronghold he’s always been for Dean, should’ve been enough to settle his nerves. 

But really, those nerves were born from the butterflies in his stomach, which Dean wasn’t going to pretend any longer that Castiel’s very same presence evoked.

He pushed away all thoughts of butterflies aside and stared into blue eyes, a stare so intense and focused on Dean, it was easy to drown in the gaze and let the rest of the world slip away.

“I didn’t say everything I wanted to,” he began. “I don’t — I don’t wanna say it’s ‘cause you deserve it to be said to your face and not-not when I’m not one-hundred percent sure you can hear me. Although — although that matters too. But…” he spun his empty whisky glass on the table, trying to stabilize himself with the feeling of the dancing crystal under his fingertips. “Truth is, I’m-I’m afraid, Cas.” His voice broke, and Dean allowed himself a moment to look down to regain his composure. All too soon — sooner than he’d have liked — he was looking back up, determined to not lose his resolve.

Cas’ eyes were soft, but no less confused than when Dean started talking. “I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you, or-or push you away, and-and I don’t know what I’d do if-if, after everything that’s happened, everything we’ve gone through, if this takes the cake? Or if somewhere down the line, something screws up and one of us gets screwed over—”

“Dean—” Someone — certainly not Chuck, nor any of those other winged douches currently up there — help him. Dean was on a roll now, and he was getting the words he desperately needed to say out, even if it was the last thing he’d do.  _ Especially _ if it was the last thing he’d get to do.

“—Then I don’t know how I’d be able to deal with losing you again, not after I finally got to let you know how much I love you.”

Cas gasped, mouth parting in shock. Eyes misting with tears, Dean unerringly went on. “Because I thought I’d rather deal with the pain of you never knowing, over getting a glimpse of what it’d be like to have you, only to-only to lose you,” his voice cracking, Dean swallowed. “But I-I can’t. I’m too selfish, or maybe I just. Can’t take this anymore, or — fuck — if this really is our last hurrah — I mean, Chuck? Really? This-this is the mother of all endgames,” Dean said helplessly, waving around them vaguely with a swooping gesture of his arm before pressing his hands back onto the table. His whiskey glass had long since been forgotten, and even Cas didn’t seem to be all too aware of his own glass, somehow managing to still hold onto it with slackened fingers. “And if this is really it — if there could’ve been even the slightest chance then this is it — then I can’t — I don’t wanna go on anymore without letting you know that — that I’m in love with you, Cas,” There. The words were out, and a huge weight felt like it’d been lifted from his chest. Feeling giddy and elated now, he let the words slip free, no longer conscious about needing to filter them at the very least.

So he repeated those precious three words, just for the hell of it.

“I love you. And I don’t wanna pretend anymore. Come hell or high water, be werewolves, or-or vamps, or Chuck — I want to know that — this—” he gestured between them. “Is real,” his lips quirked up into a small smile, remembering the voice echoing the same words in his head that he repeated aloud. “We are real.”

Finally running out of words, he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes downcast, abruptly feeling bashful. When no reply seemed to be forthcoming, he dared to look up. Cas was still staring, open-mouthed and frozen, and for the first time since he started talking, trepidation began to turn into drew in his gut.

“Cas?” Dean tried for a chuckle, hesitant as it may have ultimately come out, but winced when it sorely fell flat. “Uh, maybe wanna say something now, buddy? Or — punch me, I g—”

“You son of a bitch.” Cas growled. Dean frowned, even as his stomach sank.

“Hey, now — what—” Whatever horror he felt was sept under being affronted, but all that unconvincing mask did was to fall away, Dean having. A split second of experiencing unbridled fear as Cas rushed around the edge of the table for him—

And slammed his lips against Dean’s.

His eyes blew wide open, taking in Cas’ wrinkles — when did his angel get wrinkles? — and closed eyes before the moment caught up to him, and the Dean was closing his own eyes, mouth opening up in a gasp that Cas was quick to take advantage of by slipping his tongue in. Dean was barely starting to enjoy the surprise and thrill of Cas’ assertiveness that he unwittingly let out a small whine of protest when Cas pulled away, far too soon for Dean’s liking. 

They stared at each other, breathing hard and both of them wide-eyed. A warm feeling erupted in Dean’s chest when he registered Cas’ hands on his hips, not that Dean didn’t have a strong hold on the lapels of Cas’ coat himself. Dean’s eyes were torn, between glancing at the white shirt creasing under his hands, to spit-slicked lips, to eyes with pupils blown wide in — he hoped he wasn’t being too presumptuous in assuming, but  _ c’mon, _ Dean wasn’t  _ that  _ stupid — arousal.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, utterly afraid and reluctant yet  _ needing  _ to break the silence between them. “What—”

He didn’t have to even consider getting the pile of mush they called a brain of his to start working before Cas was already shaking his head, pulling Dean impossibly closer and effectively ruining all chances of higher brain functioning any time soon.

“I love you too, you foolish man,” Cas murmured back, before he was leaning in to close the distance between their lips again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty please leave a comment? They make me so happy, and can further help justify my neglecting of homework


End file.
